


been lying here, oh-so-lonely

by silverette666



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Cock Warming, M/M, Window Sex, choi san is a rich mfer, wooyoung is a hooker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverette666/pseuds/silverette666
Summary: San approaches with light steps, grabbing Wooyoung’s ass again and biting at his ear. “Pretty whore,” he growls into it, grinning when he feels Wooyoung’s answering shudder. “Finger yourself for me?” he asks next, giving Wooyoung the illusion of choice once again. He can’t do anything else but agree to it, uncapping the lube and pouring a small amount of liquid into his palm. It drips down to San’s polished floor but neither seems to care, both of them focused on Wooyoung grabbing blindly at his cheek, swearing when his wet fingers slide over his skin instead of gripping it. He folds two fingers inside himself quickly, his gasps overlaid with San’s appreciative noises as he watches his hungry hole swallow both digits.





	been lying here, oh-so-lonely

**Author's Note:**

> been sitting on a hooker!wooyoung thing ever since i laid eyes on [that](https://i.imgur.com/FcVO99e.png) [one](https://i.imgur.com/nPy0QoV.png) [outfit](https://i.imgur.com/Ij3RsmX.png) he wore in say my name and i guess it's finally here now! a few months later 
> 
> shoutout to the people that have looked over this before i posted it! thank you for encouraging me and assuring me it's good; i wrote more than half of it while bone tired bc i'm still in the middle of my exams and this is what i do instead of studying. hashtag-yolo
> 
> enjoy!

The pebbles on the street crackle when a sleek black car pulls up next to where Wooyoung’s trying to light up a cigarette, back turned towards the street so the wind and rain won’t put out the flame. Wooyoung looks over his shoulder when he hears the squeak of a window being rolled down. 

A young-looking face peeks out from the car, lower half washed out in the colorful light coming from the hotels and bars around them. He doesn’t seem to fall into the same age range as Wooyoung’s usual clientele—rich men that are easily twice his age, maybe even old enough to be his father—but money’s money and he won’t turn it down if the guy’s looking for a way to spend a lonely night. He pockets the lighter and cigarette and turns to face him properly, cocking his hip to the side to accentuate the fullness of his thighs and resisting the urge to bite at his lips to plump them up. 

Approaching the car doesn’t help much in making out the man’s features, still half-bathed in darkness as they are. He’s interrupted before he can start with his usual line, the guy speaking up and simply asking “how much for one night?” 

Wooyoung takes a look around him, the district they’re both in; spots a few boys that lurk around the same corners as him, a couple of girls, too, giggling their way out of a bar. The man looks loaded, as many of the people he ends up with do, and he doesn’t hesitate before naming his price. “Four hundred. You take care of the hotel and bring your own rubbers or I walk out.”

Pink lips stretch wide before parting, showing a row of even, white teeth—no gold replacements, no embellishments, nothing. “I’ll give you six hundred if you come home with me,” said as the guy scoots back and opens the car door. There’s a strip of bluish light falling on the leather of the backseat, illuminating it along with the hand that’s placed there. It makes the silver rings on his fingers glow electric and Wooyoung hesitates only for a moment before slipping inside, running a hand through his hair as he does so. 

Once he’s in, he can sort of see what his client looks like. His eyes are small but mischievous, as if he’s amused with Wooyoung already, and the light that splashes across his face as the car starts moving makes it seem like his cheekbones were carved into his face, sharp and dangerous. The same ringed hand from earlier creeps up Wooyoung’s thigh, grip firm once the man realizes how broadly it spans under his palm.

He doesn’t do much after that; no small talk, not even offering his name. Just keeps his hand on Wooyoung’s thigh and stares out of the window, letting his driver take them out of the seedier parts of the city and towards the heart of it, weaving through traffic effortlessly. Wooyoung feels at peace, despite not knowing where they’re going. He still has a pocket knife tucked in his boot, despite thinking that he won’t have to use it. Not when the man next to him doesn’t seem interested in doing anything yet.

They take a left and enter the underground parking lot of a building that makes Wooyoung dizzy to look up at when he sees it out of the corner of his eye. The driver gets out and opens the doors for them and then bows to the man, walking to another car and driving away quietly. The lot is eerily silent afterwards, neon lights buzzing in the background while Wooyoung stands there and waits for the other shoe to drop, taking in the man in front of him. They’re the same height but he has a slighter build and red and black hair that makes Wooyoung wonder if it’s considered professional at whatever company he works for. The suit he’s wearing looks expensive, tailored to fit and accentuate his broad shoulders and tapered waist; instead of a button up he’s wearing a black turtleneck under the jacket. 

Wooyoung follows him like a puppy when the guy heads for the elevator. He expects something to happen when the doors close and it’s just the two of them in the tiny space, but nothing does. The mirrors show their reflection where they’re sitting side by side, Wooyoung feeling every bit the hooker he is; leather pants, snakeskin boots and a short coat with a fur collar, the smokey eyeshadow he’s smudged along his eyes giving him a more sultry look. All he’s missing is a cherry lollipop to suck on until his tongue turns red to complete the image. 

Going up feels like rushing through the air, reminding Wooyoung why he doesn’t like elevators. Before long it dings and the doors open, revealing a hallway with a large set of doors at the end. It’s the penthouse apartment, he realizes with a jolt, and maybe that’s when his heart starts beating a little bit faster. 

The doors open once the man inputs a code Wooyoung doesn’t care about. Some of the lights are still on inside, bathing the place in a warm glow and making Wooyoung do a double-take when he spots a marble bust on a table by the window. The man walks past him, unbothered, jacket already off and draped over an arm. He sits down in an armchair, tipping his head back and sighing. Seems to remember that Wooyoung’s there so he opens his eyes to level him with a lazy look and makes a home-hither motion with his fingers, letting his thighs fall open. 

Once Wooyoung stands between his legs he reaches up to push on his shoulders, bringing him to his knees. He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at him, gaze heavy already. As far as Wooyoung can tell he’s not hard yet, but he’s not about to fight a client. He goes willingly, leather stretching over his thighs when he kneels, and the hand that cups his cheek and slides into the buzzed side of his cut makes him shiver in anticipation. 

“You can call me San,” comes from above him. “Or sir, if you’d prefer,” as if it’s Wooyoung’s choice to make. He touches his temple to one of San’s knees, rubbing his cheek on the expensive material of his pants and voices out a weak, breathless little “yes, sir,” looking up at the other man in what he knows is a devastating way. San just smirks and shifts around, hands undoing his pants and opening them, pulling his dick out. It’s still mostly soft and Wooyoung wonders what he’ll have to do to get San hard.

His question is answered when the man grabs his chin and pulls him forward, thumbing at his bottom lip to get Wooyoung to open his mouth. He feeds his dick to him, cramming the soft length inside until Wooyoung’s lips stretch around the base, tip tickling the back of his throat but not enough to make him uncomfortable. It tastes like skin and a bit of sweat, clean but with a tang of musk; San keeps his hair trimmed short, just barely tickling Wooyoung’s lips when he shifts around to make himself more comfortable.

Putting his elbow on the armrest and leaning his head into his fist, San looks like a king while he lets his eyes roam over Wooyoung’s figure in front of him. The picture he’s painting is a very pretty one, gaze dangerous in the low light and thick lips thinned out at the root of his cock. He’s not doing anything, seems to understand exactly that San just wants to sit there and slowly get hard in his mouth, fill Wooyoung up until his cheeks are bulging with dick. It’s doing something to Wooyoung as well, his own cock twitching in his pants with how San’s blatantly ignoring him, taking his pleasure from Wooyoung but not giving anything back. 

He passes his hand through Wooyoung’s hair, fingers scratching against his scalp gently, shifting around to make himself more comfortable and see if the boy in front of him reacts in any way. San already feels himself grow between his lips, Wooyoung’s soft tongue lapping at the underside of his cock whenever he swallows while big eyes lined in kohl glance up at him almost innocently. There’s nothing innocent about this, though, not with the thoughts running through San’s mind; glancing at the window on his right and imagining it being fogged up with their breaths when he’ll finally push Wooyoung against it. 

Wooyoung sighs through his nose when San starts filling up his mouth some more, wriggling in place to get used to the weight of his dick on his tongue. He moves it experimentally, just tiny motions while tightening the seal of his lips around the base too, pulling San in deeper towards the back of his throat. The man curls a hand around his jaw, tightening it and pushing Wooyoung’s head back, sitting up in the armchair and hunching over the figure between his legs. His hips move shallowly at first, fucking into Wooyoung’s mouth gently with barely there thrusts, just enjoying the drag of dick over tongue. 

Sitting up, San pushes Wooyoung back until he’s kneeling in front of him, lifting the hem of his turtleneck up so it won’t obscure his view of Wooyoung’s face. His hips fuck back and forth in bigger movements and the first sounds of Wooyoung gagging travel up to San’s ears, making him groan and throw his head back, fingers tighening on his jaw. One of his hands grips his cock at the base, pulling it out of Wooyoung’s mouth and smearing the shiny head around his lips before thrusting against his cheek for a couple of times. There’s a slick sheen to his skin when San goes back to slipping his cockhead between his lips and if Wooyoung hates this he gives no indication of it; his thighs twitch, muscles flexing under the material and a low groan builds up at the back of his throat.

It’s enough for San to pull him up by the hand still on his jaw, tonguing at the mess of drool and precome on Wooyoung’s chin, tasting himself and licking his lips appreciatively. He pushes the other man towards the big window, tugging at his jacket until the fluffy collar doesn’t tickle his nose anymore, free hand going around to cup at his crotch. Surprisingly, he finds him already hard, thick length trapped under leather and the cotton of his underwear as San squeezes him appreciatively. Wooyoung moans at the action, tripping over his own feet as they walk towards the window.

Reaching it, San’s quick to push Wooyoung onto the chilly surface, holding the other man there as he makes quick work of his pants. They’re pushed down to his knees, locking Wooyoung in place as San positions his hips as he sees fit, making him stick his ass out invitingly. It’s plush and it fits nicely in his hands, making Wooyoung groan when he squeezes and parts his cheeks to peek at his hole. Furled tight and tinged pink, it looks very tempting; San can’t wait to sink his fingers and cock inside.

He pulls up his pants to walk the short distance to his bedroom, throwing a hasty little “don’t move,” over his shoulder as he leaves. The lube and condoms are in one of his desk drawers and San pulls out a bottle and two little foil packets, taking them back with him. As if he’s forgotten the state Wooyoung was in when he left, San stops in his tracks when he steps into the living room and he’s greeted with the sight of the pretty boy standing as he left him, pressed up against the window.

San approaches with light steps, grabbing Wooyoung’s ass again and biting at his ear. “Pretty whore,” he growls into it, grinning when he feels Wooyoung’s answering shudder. “Finger yourself for me?” he asks next, giving Wooyoung the illusion of choice once again. He can’t do anything else but agree to it, uncapping the lube and pouring a small amount of liquid into his palm. It drips down to San’s polished floor but neither seems to care, both of them focused on Wooyoung grabbing blindly at his cheek, swearing when his wet fingers slide over his skin instead of gripping it. He folds two fingers inside himself quickly, his gasps overlaid with San’s appreciative noises as he watches his hungry hole swallow both digits. San grabs his dick and strokes over his flesh a couple of times, tightening his fingers around the base to keep himself hard. 

The angle is awkward, frustrated noises pouring past Wooyoung’s lips as he can’t get deep enough to touch his prostate, knees buckling a bit with his efforts. San’s quick to help, coating his fingers with lube and pushing one in alongside Wooyoung’s. It makes him pause, forehead resting on the glass as he breathes heavily and tries gathering his wits, not keen on letting out a lot of embarrassing noises. He stretches himself out and tries not to think about San looking at him intently, staring as their fingers work inside him in tandem; usually, his clients don’t really care about this sort of thing, but he can feel the man’s puffing breath ruffling the hair at his nape and cooling the sweaty back of his neck. 

Not long after, San deems him ready; he knocks Wooyoung’s hand away, tearing open the condom and rolling it down on his dick, squirting more lube on himself. Everything feels slippery for Wooyoung already and he can only imagine the way his hole looks, all shiny and wet; but he doesn’t get a lot of time to contemplate it because San grabs his dick and touches his tip to his ass, sinking inside. The first push has them both groaning, the prep being too hasty for Wooyoung, leaving him open-mouthed and panting. 

Being inside Wooyoung feels too good for San, whose hands grip at his hips on their own accord, smearing lube on his skin and leaving little indentations in the shape of his nails. The tan skin of his neck looks inviting so San bites down on it, ignoring Wooyoung’s little yelp and the way he bucks backwards into San. He slides in and out a couple of times, enjoying the way Wooyoung’s hole clings to him when he draws back, how it almost fights him when he fucks inside. 

“Feel good, baby?” he asks in a playful tone, nudging the back of Wooyoung’s knees until they’re spread as much as his pants will allow it. San pushes him forward so his chest rests against the window in front of him, cheek mushed into the glass; the maids will have to scrub it clean tomorrow, San thinks as he watches Wooyoung brace himself against the surface with the hand that’s still wet with lube. He’s draped over Wooyoung as he thrusts inside him, grinding into his ass every now and again instead of properly pulling back. It would’ve been better to have Wooyoung pressed entirely against the window, cock trapped between the cool glass and his own stomach, watch his come drip down when he shoots it all over its transparent surface. 

“Think anybody out there can see you like this, hmm?” He’s looking to get a rise out of Wooyoung, pleased when that seems to have an effect on him; his eyes scrunch shut and he almost refuses to look down, suddenly dizzy with the realisation that they’re somewhere up high and there’s only a piece of thin glass between him and the long drop down. 

A particular rough thrust has Wooyoung whining and clenching around San, making the man growl into his hair. “You like that?” and Wooyoung nods weakly, choking on his “yes, sir,” when San repeats the motion, dragging his cock against that spot inside him that makes his legs wobble. He wonders if he’s allowed to jerk off and it’s like San reads his mind when he barks at him to wrap a hand around himself, aiding him with a fist curled around his own fingers.

The pace they set together is fast and rough, hands flying over Wooyoung’s dick at a counterpoint to San’s hips driving inside him. San feels himself getting closer when Wooyoung’s noises escalate, loud in the otherwise silent room, and his hole keeps clamping down on him, making it difficult to move freely. 

“Keep your hands on the window, c’mon,” San urges, and he doesn’t have to say it twice; Wooyoung obliges, feeling like his head’s been stuffed with cotton when he catches a glimpse of the city spread out underneath, lights winking at him like stars woven into a blanket of colors. He comes pretty fast after that, splattering the glass and rubbing his forehead against it, smearing it with the sweat that’s accumulated there.

San can’t see much of Wooyoung with his head bowed like that, but he can sense it when he comes, dick pulsing in his hand and hole clamping down on him. He lets go of his dick and focuses on himself, grabbing Wooyoung’s hips and fucking him backwards on his cock to the tune of his moans spilling brokenly past his lips, until he finishes inside the condom and collapses on the man in front of him. Catching his breath is hard and he also ends up with a mouthful of fake fur, spitting it out as he pulls back take the condom off. San ties it up and walks towards the bathroom to throw it away, letting Wooyoung pull himself back together as well. He’s not cruel enough to send him away like that so he grabs a towel from the cupboard, wetting a corner and wringing it out before returning to the mess in the living room.

Barely having enough energy to lift himself up, Wooyoung misses the first nudge against his shoulder when San offers him the towel. He takes it and hastily wipes at the mess between his legs, cringing when the tender skin of his hole twinges once he passes the towel over it. Sighing to himself, he resorts to going home immediately after he gets out, already envisioning himself in his small tub back in the dingy apartment he lives in. 

In the kitchen, San’s digging through his wallet, pulling out the necessary bills and folding them in the middle. He takes the wad of cash and puts it on the small table by the door, dragging his hand through his hair to unstick it from his forehead. He needs a shower, and also to make sure that Wooyoung will leave before that—though he doubts he’s the type to snoop around—but the other man still needs a bit of time. He’s in the middle of zipping up his pants when San looks at him next, hands still shaking when he tries to do the button, bending down to swipe at the mess on the window with the towel San gave him earlier. It will leave streaks but the gesture is still appreciated, making San smile to himself.

Wooyoung is careful when he steps over to where San’s standing, the way he carries himself belying the fact that San did go a bit rough on him. “That’s your money, sweet thing,” as if Wooyoung doesn’t realize it. The two men look at each other for a moment and then San pushes past Wooyoung, nothing else said between them. He walks into his bedroom, entering the bathroom but not closing the door fully behind him, starting the shower as he undresses out of sight. 

That’s as clear a cue to get out as they get and Wooyoung does just that, counting the money before slipping it into the waistband of his pants. San’s shower is the last thing he hears when the door clicks shut behind him, the clacking of his heeled boots muted by the carpet as he walks towards the elevator. Wooyoung feels a bit weird, hollow, almost—as if San carved out a piece of him to keep after he fucked him against that window. Shaking his head, he reminds himself that getting attached to his clients isn’t good, if this is what’s happening to him; but sometimes he can’t help but feel a little uncentered after everything’s done. 

Cracking his neck, he decides to put this out of his mind for now, thinking about the growing stack of cash under the loose floorboard in his room. He barely even feels his stomach drop once the elevator begins its descent and when he gets out of it, the doors close with a sound that’s nearly swallowed by buzzing lights overhead. It feels final, in a way, when Wooyoung walks out of the building and into the street, noise rushing back into his ears as the world seems to start up again. He walks for a bit and then catches a taxi, sitting in the front seat as it takes him towards his home.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments are greatly appreciated! and as always, you can find me on [tumblr](http://maccready-s.tumblr.com); [twitter](https://twitter.com/deaconkink); [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/deaconkink) | [commission info](http://maccready-s.tumblr.com/post/160994683913/commissions-info)


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